Different Now
by emeraldorchids
Summary: Miranda has a new boyfriend and seeks relationship advice from her best friend, Andrea.


A/N: Here's another story I wrote years ago but never published. I've been attempting to write them as 'best friends' for a long time, and was never happy with the result. However, in the spirit of finishing what I've started, I hope you enjoy this one shot.

* * *

=== DIFFERENT NOW ===

"Honey?" she whispered, softly placing her hand on his chest. "Honey? Darling, are you asleep?" When there was no response, she sighed and laid back, staring up at the ceiling.

Tonight marked the third time this month that her boyfriend had fallen asleep early. Aroused and frustrated, she got up to use the bathroom, then turned the dim light of the nightstand on. At least she could try to get some work done.

But that didn't last long. Three pages in and she couldn't stop thinking about the man laying next to her, how perfectly they had fit together at first, and how much had changed. She tucked her work aside and pulled out her phone to send a text.

MP: Still awake?

AS: Yup. What's up?

MP: He fell asleep again.

AS: Seriously? Wake him up. :-P

MP: I wish that would fix it.

MP: God, it's been so long… So…long…ugh.

AS: Still don't understand why you won't just do it yourself.

MP: Is it so much to ask that my boyfriend do his job once in a while?

AS: I'm not defending your arm candy, but I've known you for long enough that I can guess you haven't exactly been honest with him about your expectations.

AS: Miranda? Still awake?

MP: Yes.

MP: I shouldn't have to tell him. You tell an escort what you want because you're paying him. I never had to tell Tom before—when we first started dating, there was so much chemistry, and god, it was so hot.

AS: Yeah, so you've said…

MP: But now, it's just humiliating. I guess now that I'm over fifty, I'm not allowed to have needs anymore.

AS: That's Dinah Princhek talking. There is nothing to be ashamed about needing sex! :-P

MP: Sometimes I regret ever introducing you to my mother.

AS: You're deflecting.

MP: You're not helping.

AS: What?

MP: I am ready to fucking explode and you're talking about needs and sex and sending tongue smileys.

AS: Haha, that's great, but you need to tell the guy in your bed that, not me.

AS: It would take me too long to get there. Unless you were thinking...

MP: Wait, are you the city tonight?

AS: No. Utah.

MP: Right, I forgot. How's the conference?

AS: Oh, you know. Hundreds of snooty intellectuals with no social skills or sense of fashion. The landscape here is beautiful, though. I wish you could see it.

AS: I can tell you all about the Mormons here if it will help your current situation…

MP: No thank you. You'll have to send me pics—of the landscape, not the Mormons.

AS: Will do. Shall I send any other type of pic? ;)

AS: Sooo, you should really talk to the boytoy about your situation. If he's anything like the guys I used to date, I'd guess he is totally clueless that you're not satisfied.

MP: As if this is an isolated incident.

MP: You're probably right.

MP: Are women more intuitive?

AS: Most. Some are as just dicks though.

AS: You know…with vaginas.

MP: As if I could forget—

AS: Sorry. Seriously, just take what you want from him. What has ever stopped you from doing that before?

AS: Or wait. Did you want me to…on the phone?

MP: No, not tonight. I just needed to vent, thank you.

AS: Anytime. But hey, I'm going to bed. Early sessions tomorrow. Sweet dreams. xo

Miranda sighed and plugged the phone back into its charger on her nightstand. Andrea had a point, though she would never admit it. Reaching under the covers, she slipped her arm around Tom's waist. Andrea was right: nothing should stop her from taking what she wanted.

The next morning while Miranda was enjoying her coffee and skimming the newspaper, Tom came downstairs with his suitcase.

"My flight for Denver leaves at seven tonight, but I'm heading there straight from the office. I'll be back Tuesday night," he said.

"Good morning," she she said. The hum of her words as smooth as butter. "Remind me, what's in Denver?"

"Christopher Wade. Our biggest client."

"Oh, right, of course," Miranda said. She thought for a moment, then added, "Do you want me to come with and keep you company in the evenings?"

"Nah, Allison will be there," he said. At her raised eyebrow, he added, "She and I will be pretty busy ironing out the details of Christopher's new contract, and then we'll be out for dinner and drinks with his team. Work stuff."

Miranda held her breath and gently bit her lip. "Of course you'd prefer her company," she said under her breath.

"What was that? Speak up, I couldn't hear you," he snapped.

"I said 'Of course you prefer _her_ company!'" Miranda shouted, slamming her hand against the table. "It's always someone—never me." She brought her hand up to cover her face, hiding her tears. "Shit, what has happened to us?"

"For as high and mighty as your image makes you out to be, you're pretty damn insecure if you ask me."

"I wasn't asking," she hissed.

"Of course you weren't. You never ask for anything—you expect people to read your goddamned mind."

"Tom, just go. Get out of here."

With that, he grabbed his bag and marched out the front door, slamming it behind him. Miranda threw her coffee mug towards the door for good measure. Shattering china was always cathartic for her.

The rest of the afternoon, she couldn't focus on anything related to work. Their next issue was going to print in less than forty-eight hours, and she couldn't even tell you which features were included this month. The strain of her crumbling relationship was beginning to take its toll. In the back of her mind she knew she would lose him—she lost everyone—but at least she was grateful she hadn't agreed to marriage this time. Still, there were the girls to consider. They were a bit older now, but that didn't make it any easier.

Pushing herself out of her chair, she walked to her office door and told her assistant that she wasn't to be bothered until the conference call with Gucci at 3:30. She closed her door and dialed Andrea's number.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Andrea answered.

"I need help."

"Are you okay? Is it one of the girls?"

"No, no, they're fine. It's me. I'm—I just—I feel like my life is spiraling out of control. I can't focus on work, my relationship is failing. I don't even care for Tom that much, but it's affecting me. I can't lose it all, Andrea. I just can't."

"Okay, take a deep breath. Let's make a list," Andrea said.

"Lists are not the solution!"

"Bear with me, please? Remember, you're the one who called me."

"I'm sorry, forget it. I shouldn't have said anything." Miranda sighed.

"Wait! Please, Miranda, don't do this."

After a long pause, Miranda quietly said, "Fine, but no lists."

"Okay, um, can you get away from work for a few days?"

"I think so. Why?"

"Come stay in Utah with me."

"What? Oh, do be serious."

"I am. Miranda, this would be perfect. You can—"

"Yes."

"—join me. What? You will?"

"Yes."

"Oh, excellent. Um, great. When do you think you'll come in?"

"Tonight? I mean, presuming I can get a flight out of the city."

"I have some spare time now—want me to book it for you?"

"I mean, maybe I shouldn't," the editor said as she watched her employees scurrying around just outside her door.

"It's up to you. I'm stuck here in Park City through Sunday, and I'm here as a friend, or whatever you need."

"Andrea, we said we wouldn't…"

"I know. But things are different now," she said. After a few seconds of silence, she continued, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. If you're still interested, there is a great spa in the hotel I'm staying at, and I would of course arrange for you to have your own room. It's very relaxing out here."

"Find me a flight out of New York after 5pm tonight. We'll discuss this more in person."

"Oh, okay. Um, I'll send that information over right away."

An hour later, Miranda received an email with her boarding pass for a flight departing JFK International later that evening. She would arrive in Utah by 9pm local time, and there would be a car waiting for her at the airport to take her to the hotel, which was actually a resort, where there was a suite booked.

* * *

Miranda spent time on the flight reviewing the Book, and she was even able to catch a few hours of sleep herself. When she arrived at the resort and retrieved her key, the concierge handed her a notecard that simply read "602." Miranda recognized the handwriting, and instead of going to her room, she headed straight for Andrea's.

"Oh, hi!" the young woman said, opening the door. "I thought you'd call—"

Miranda didn't let her finish. She threw her bag down inside the doorway and pushed the young woman backwards, locking her lips in a desperate kiss.

Andrea reached for Miranda's jacket and pushed it to the ground while the older woman unbuttoned her own blouse. She pushed Miranda back, farther into the room and towards the bed, as Miranda unclasped the belt around Andrea's waist. Tossing the belt aside, Andrea slipped the dress over her head, adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Miranda quickly stepped out of her trousers and pulled Andrea towards the bed.

"Oh god," Andrea moaned as Miranda's lips trailed down her neck. She unclasped her bra and tossed it aside while the woman quickly palmed her breasts and sucked on her nipples. "Miranda, please," she said, taking the woman's hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. She reached up and cupped the woman's cheek, and for the first time that night, their eyes met. This couldn't really be happening…but it was. Andrea quickly closed the distance between them and turned Miranda onto her back.

"You know, you never have to tell me what you need," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the woman's lips.

"Andrea," Miranda said, squirming beneath her. "Stop, stop."

The young woman rolled to the side and laid against the pillows. "You okay?"

"No. Jesus, what was I thinking?" she said. "Andrea, I am so sorry." She brought her hands up to cover her face.

The young woman moved closer and laid her head on Miranda's shoulder and innocently draped her arm across the woman's stomach. "I worry about you," Andrea whispered. "Let me take care of you this weekend, okay?"

Miranda reached down for the young woman's hand, entwining their fingers. "I can't—it's not fair to you."

"Listen," the young woman said. "You know that you're my best friend. I hate seeing you so unhappy and unappreciated. Let me help."

"Andrea, I value our friendship a great deal, and getting involved at this point will only ruin what we have. Haven't we learned from our mistakes?"

She sat up and looked down at the editor. "We have. And I agree about not getting involved. Just trust me. Okay?"

The editor nodded. She still felt like it was a bad idea. There she was, practically naked, laying in bed with her former assistant and current best friend. The lines were blurred beyond recognition or repair, but yet, she felt loved and couldn't bear moving a single muscle.

"I'm going to draw you a bath. You've had a long day and I know you must be exhausted," Andrea said, getting out of bed and slipping into a robe. She took another robe from the bathroom and tossed it on the bed. "I love you, Miranda."

"I know," she said, reaching over for the robe.

Andrea began drawing a bath and carefully laid out towels, lit a few candles, and turned on some soft music. Miranda entered the bathroom and before she could untie her robe, Andrea wrapped her arms around the woman. "Hello, again," she said, hugging her tightly. "It's so good to see you."

Miranda wrapped her arms tightly around the young woman. "Hello, you. Thank you, I needed this," she said.

"I know," Andrea said with a smirk on her lips.

Miranda laughed and softly swatted the young woman's arm. She looked up into the young woman's eyes, unsure of how to proceed.

"I'll go get you a drink while you get settled in the bath," Andrea said. "But I'm coming back."

Miranda quickly removed her makeup and wrapped her hair up in a turban so it wouldn't get wet before slipping into the hot water. She pulled a washcloth across her chest and sank down against the porcelain.

Andrea returned with a glass of vodka and sat on one of the towels next to the bath. "I brought you a drink," she said.

The older woman sat up and took a sip, while Andrea grabbed the loofah and poured some body wash on it. She rolled up the sleeves on her robe before dipping the loofah into the bath water and raising it up across Miranda's back.

She felt the hot water and gentle touch on her shoulders and couldn't stop the moan that escaped her lips. She rolled her head forward, exposing her full back and shoulders to the younger woman's ministrations.

Andrea continued to softly bathe the woman until the waters grew cool. She held up a towel and helped her out of the water.

"Can you bring my bag in here?" Miranda asked.

The young woman nodded and brought the woman's travel bag into the bathroom, giving her privacy and shutting the door. Meanwhile, she changed into pajamas and fluffed the pillows on the bed.

Miranda emerged from the bathroom looking relaxed and comfortable. "Andrea, that felt wonderful," she said. "Do you mind if I stay here tonight?"

"Of course not. Come on. Do you need to make any calls or get up at any specific time?"

"No," Miranda said. "I am officially off for the weekend."

"Perfect." She led Miranda to bed and crawled in behind her, turning out the lights.

After a few minutes, Miranda turned to her side and curled against the young woman. It was unconventional, but it felt right. She closed her eyes and fell asleep, content for the first time in a long while.

* * *

The next day, Miranda told her about her argument with Tom, and they had a long conversation about what she wanted out of that relationship. She admitted that the optics were important to her. As a public figure, she was constantly invited to events and dinners, and she felt that it was important for her to have a partner—even if it wasn't permanent. Because of her busy schedule, she didn't have much opportunity to date, so part of it was just that it was easier to be with Tom. Not to mention, the media didn't seem to be interested when she had a consistent date for events.

"Do you think he is fooling around with someone else?" Andrea asked. "Honestly?"

"No. It's natural for me to assume the worst, but I don't think he would do that. He practically lives with me. I think there's a bit of the 'work wife' situation going on with his counterpart at the firm, but I mean, he could say the same about me and Nigel, or me and you, for that matter," Miranda explained.

"You're not emotionally invested in one another?"

"Not really. That was never what we were looking for. It was really just companionship, mutual interests. Sex," she said. That night, she sent Tom a message.

MP: Hello. I need to apologize for overreacting the other morning. I hope your meetings with C. Wade are going well. I know you're busy, so I'm looking forward to catching up when you return. I'm in Park City now—I needed a long weekend to relax and decompress. Talk soon, darling. xo

TP: Meetings are going well—looks like we're going to get the bid for next year. Enjoy your time off & see you back in NYC. Love you.

Miranda sighed and read the message to Andrea. "He doesn't love me like you do," she said with a shrug.

"Nor should he. I would be jealous," she added, trying to lighten the tone. "We have different people in our lives for different reasons, Miranda. If your relationship with any one person causes you unhappiness, I want to help you fix that. Are you terribly unhappy with Tom?"

"I thought I was," she said. "And now I feel kind of stupid because I didn't realize it until just now. I've been expecting everyone to be everything for me, so I was setting him up to fail. He does fit my life. He's a good man, and though he's not you, he is mostly good to me. More so than I am to him," she added.

Andrea smiled and took the woman's hand, squeezing it softly. "I'm glad you came out here. I think this is good."

"I agree," she said. "I am a bit talked-out, though. Do you mind if we go for a walk or just spend some time enjoying the view tomorrow?"

"That sounds perfect," Andrea said.

Miranda nodded and laid her head on Andrea's shoulder. "You know, I love you, too," she said.

"I know," Andrea said.

.

.

The end.


End file.
